I'm fully aware that the world sucks.
But I'm going through a journal here with a story about a pretty 15 year old girl with terminal cancer, both her and her solo mother facing it as bravely as they can.
And I take that article and reduce it to a single dry sentence, and put a very simple reference to her in a database. That's likely to be the only obituary ever officially recorded - the life of someone who should have so much to look forward to reduced to two words in a cross reference file.
Maturity is coming to grips with mortality, grasping that the world is screamingly indifferent and unfair, that you and everyone you love will die, and there is nothing ever that you can do to stop that. I know this.
But it hurts to consider yourself part of that unfairness, even if that's irrational.